A Lost Relic Returns
by LipstickKiller
Summary: Everyone loses something at some point in their lives. But sometimes...sometimes they're lucky enough to see it return. HGSB. And my first story, so...be nice and review, pretty please. :3.
1. Chapter 1

Darkness. Unfathomably black with no light, no hope in sight.

Silence, disturbed only by the faint movement of air caused by the fluttering of a tattered veil and by indistinguishable whispers.

An icy cold. The warmth of sunlight had never touched this peculiar place. In fact, no living beings had been here in almost five years. (_"five years, what a surprise!")_

But then…

Tendrils of light were escaping from behind the veil, which was now moving almost violently. The whispers grew louder, and had anyone conscious been inside the Death Chamber at that moment, they would swear they heard terrified shouting from a crowd of desperately scared people.

One would think the commotion in the room might have sent people running in, especially as it was a supposedly high-security government building. Alas, nobody came, because the general consensus of most employees, even among the Unspeakables, was that this was a place to be avoided. The few who would have found themselves willing to investigate were tucked away safely in their homes. Well they were safe in the physical sense. Mentally…one cannot hide from the demons that launch their twisted attacks from inside the mind.

But now...now, there _was_ a being inside this room. A living, shallowly breathing, dirty and unconscious being. A man.

A man who looked nearly emaciated; a man whose tattoos were peeking through his tattered robes; a man whose midnight black hair was a tangled mess.

A man by the name of Sirius Black.

**AN: Well, I hope you likey? Review and let me know, and I shall bestow upon you a mighty cookie! :3. Really though, let me know if this is any good, if I should continue, and if there are any errors. **

**(aside from the shortness; I hope to have a much longer Chapter 1 up either later today or sometime tomorrow. That is, if you guys think this is worth going on with).  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh, I nearly forgot:**

Disclaimer: I own nothing from the Harry Potter universe. Not even the cool stuff. :(.

**

* * *

**The early morning light streamed through a set of threadbare purple curtains, waking the room's occupant all too early. Hermione Granger was not a morning person, not anymore. A lifetime ago, she had been up with the weak dawn light, her exuberance for life and the prospect of a good day ahead of her propelling her out of bed. After all that had happened, though, she was just glad she managed to drag herself out of bed at all. She would never let anyone else know this, though. In front of people, Hermione always put on a strong front, a mask, never letting anyone see how wretched she really felt. It was another story in the privacy of her home. This was her sanctuary of sorts, where she could be as depressed as she liked, could mope and sigh and scream to the heavens, with nobody ever becoming the wiser.

After groaning slightly at her too early awakening, Hermione rolled out of the ancient bed, being careful to avoid the books which had been thrown haphazardly around the room in fits of frustration. She had read through all of them, cover to cover, hoping to find the one bit of information she needed to stop the puzzle that was haunting her. But for once in her life, books seemed to be failing her. She had gone to Flourish and Blotts so often, pouring after the books so obsessively that the owners had taken pity and allowed her to start borrowing them, lest she spend what money she had left on books that would only prove useless. And although this act of generosity _had_ saved her a small fortune, it still hadn't gotten her any closer to achieving her goal.

She wasn't sure why she was trying so hard to get him back. Hermione had never been particularly close to Sirius. She'd admired his bravery and his resilience; staying sane after everything that had happened to him. She'd admired how he was always trying to break the melancholy which had so often settled in among Order members. Most of all, she'd found his capacity to _love_, to be unwaveringly loyal to those he cared about, one of the greatest qualities she'd ever seen in a person.

But really, she knew that his only great bond to anyone in the so-called "Golden Trio" was with Harry. At this, she wanted to laugh. Ever since he'd chosen Ron over Hermione without even considering her side of the story, she'd had to question if they'd ever had the great bond of friendship she'd believed in when they were younger. Still…if she could bring back Sirius, she'd let Harry know in a heartbeat, even if he had been…insensitive, to put it lightly.

Over the past two years, bringing Sirius back from the veil had become an obsession. Aside from the books that were strewn across her floor, there were stacks of them that climbed precariously high; almost every surface of the house was covered. Their titles and descriptions had all seemed vaguely promising, but upon reading through them extensively, they bore no epiphany, no solution. But she could never bring herself to return them. What if she'd missed some miniscule detail that held the answer she needed? What if some other book referenced one of these?

It would have been infinitely easier had she had help. Or even enough money that would allow her to take time off to focus solely on her research. But any close friends who once might have helped were now long gone, it was too much to ask of her casual friends, and money was in short supply for her.

Speaking of money…she needed to go to work now. There, she could escape her thoughts in the endless monotony of her job. Back in school, she had expected to do something exciting with her life. Now, she knew that she could never bring herself to make the effort to be anything above average. She may have been extremely intelligent, may have once been, and might still be, the greatest witch of her age. But that meant nothing when she was too lost in the sorrows she'd experienced, and the mystery the veil presented. Perhaps she was throwing herself into this project to cope with her pain, but at least it was better than becoming some wandering drunk. At least this showed she still had goals and hopes and dreams. At least she was clinging to her sanity, if only just.

Hermione walked over to the small fireplace and took a pinch of Floo Powder from a jar on the mantle. She stated her destination, loud and clear ("Ministry of Magic!") and stepped into the roaring emerald flames, keeping her elbows close and her eyes shut.

After what seemed like an age, Hermione stepped out of the fireplace and into the lobby of the Ministry of Magic. She walked down a corridor to get to a crowded lift, which she crammed herself into, trying to avoid being crushed by the other witches and wizards inside. For a ministry that concerned itself with magic, she though they really should have charmed the lifts to allow for more space.

Shrugging mentally, she prodded a button which would take her to the second floor. To her office.

Hermione had become a researcher of muggles. There was nothing wrong with it, precisely, but it was hardly the illustrious career that everyone had expected of her. That she had expected of herself.

She wasn't in the section the dealt with muggle rights. Nor was she involved in muggle-wizarding relations. She just…researched, in the vague expectation that the Ministry would assign someone else a project that would require the information she gathered.

Of course, Hermione _had_ at one point been an Auror. She and Ron had been two of the greatest in their field, given their prior experience fighting Death Eaters. Harry, too, would have been legendary, had he followed the same path.

But after Ron had gone, she couldn't deal with the mingled smugness and pity she encountered from her fellow Aurors. So she had gone to work in the department that dealt with Muggles, gone to what would hopefully be the most secluded position.

She'd wished it were at least slightly more challenging.

Having lived a large portion of her life with Muggles, and taking courses about them from the magical community's perspective while in Hogwarts, she was well qualified for this field of work, allowing her to rise quickly through the ranks. She had her own office now, whereas many others shared only a single cramped cubicle.

Sometimes, though, she wondered if she shouldn't have left the Ministry altogether. It wasn't helping her, to be constantly reminded of Muggles, not after what had happened to her parents. But she felt as if it was her duty to research the Veil; to get him back. And this was far more easily achieved if she could always be in close vicinity to the Department of Mysteries. It wasn't as if she herself could become an Unspeakable; the people who would have made the decision to hire her for such a position were certainly not going to do her any favours. They'd made that perfectly clear over the past years.

As she walked down the corridor to her office, a few people waved or called out a greeting to her. She halfheartedly returned their greetings, hoping they wouldn't see how strained she was; how much effort it took to appear normal. She hadn't smiled genuinely in ages, in what felt like a lifetime. Often, she merely drifted through the day, not really noticing what she was doing.

Unless she had another theory to test out on the veil. On those days, she would actually respond to her coworkers' greetings, and she'd feel a stirring of hope. In the beginning, after she first started her research, that hope had been like a child's balloon in a fairground, leaving her inflated and elated. That is, until she actually tried out her theories. Then she'd only end up crushed, feeling more and more hopeless until she finally just stopped setting the bar so high.

If she was honest with herself, there were only two reasons she was still trying, and both of them were admittedly selfish. Perhaps primarily, she was in desperate need of a distraction. This was as good as any.

But then…she felt a nagging presence in the back of her mind, telling her that he was still alive, just centimeters out of reach. If there was any chance of saving him, she needed to take it. She wouldn't let someone else she cared about go away. And that…that was what was selfish about this seemingly selfless motivation. She realised that even if he had found peace, wherever he was, she wanted him back. Aside from Remus, he would become one of the only pleasant ties to her past life. A life of someone who had dreams, aspirations, and who wasn't merely toiling away at a job devoid of satisfaction.

She finally reached her desk, and, sighing, settled herself into her chair. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

**A/N: Hm. I'm fairly iffy on this chapter. Some of it seems phrased awkwardly, I think, so if you catch anything specific, lemme know? :S.  
Either way, review, and tell me if you likey or no likey.  
(and thank you to those who reviewed the first chapter. *gives cookies to AB, ThatRomantic, and PineappleKisses*)**


End file.
